


gingerbread house

by elliottaster



Category: Picturesque (Band)
Genre: BIG OOF, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Gingerbread House, and that’s saying something bc i’ve been writing shitty fanfic since i was 13, everyone’s an asshole, this is the worst thing i have ever written in my entire goddamn life, uncharacteristic portrayal of the characters’ personalities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-30 22:02:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17232008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliottaster/pseuds/elliottaster
Summary: Picturesque attempts to make a gingerbread house—except Dylan accidentally ripped the instructions.





	gingerbread house

**Author's Note:**

> this has been sitting in my notes since sept 2017 and i need it out of there so enjoy this crackfic that is also the worst thing i have ever written as you can see from the tags

“Zach, you can’t do it like that! Where are the instructions?” Jordan asked, reaching over the table for the box.

“Don’t ask me! Kyle was the one who opened it! And somehow managed to cut his hands with the scissors!”

“Kyle—“

“Dylan! Why are the instructions ripped in half?” Kyle asked, holding up the two halves of the instructions.

“I refuse to discuss my fifth amendment rights until I concur with your attorney.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

“My god, you’re all children…” Jordan mumbled, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m surrounded by adults with the maturity of fuckin’ five-year-olds.”

Dylan shoved him in the arm.

“Kyle, hand me the instructions, I’ll tape ‘em back together,” Zach said, extending his arm. “Because _someone_ decided to rip them,” he said, glaring at Dylan.

“Hey—!”

Kyle cut him off by asking Zach, “Can you get me a Band Aid, too?” and handing him the ripped instructions.

“Yeah, sure,” he told him, getting up to get the tape dispenser and a Band Aid.

Jordan elbowed Dylan once Zach was out of the room.

“Ow! What the hell was that for?”

“That was for socking me in the arm two minutes ago.”

“That’s not fair, your advantage is that your elbows are fucking knives, I swear to god, Jor—Kyle, wipe that fuckin’ smirk off your smug face before I sock you, too, you bastard!”

“I’m gone for two minutes, _just two minutes_ , and you’re already threatening to physically attack one another,” Zach said, coming back into the kitchen, holding the badly-repaired instructions and Kyle’s Band Aid. “What the hell, guys?”

“To be fair, mine was a repercussion and Dylan is just apparently threatening people with violence, now,” Jordan said. “What did you do to ‘im, Williamson?”

“I didn’t _do_ anything!” he replied, setting the instructions down and giving Kyle his Band Aid.

“Thanks.”

“Welcome,” he said as he sat back down next to him. “Alright, Jordan, now what the hell was I doing wrong?” he asked when Jordan picked up the badly-taped instructions. The two halves were not even correctly aligned.

“Okay, first off, your craftsmanship for taping instructions—just taping goddamn instructions, Christ—is horrendous. Secondly, you can’t fuckin’ expect the gingerbread structure to be supported if you keep dotting the edges with globs of frosting.”

“The hell’s wrong with that? What do you mean I can’t? That’s genius. That’s a genius idea.”

“No, it fuckin’ isn’t,” Dylan told him. Zach flicked an M&M in his direction, which hit his sweater.

“I’m going to handle this like an adult. What the actual _fuck_ is wrong with you?” Dylan snapped, throwing some gumdrops at him. One went in his hair, one on the floor, and the other hit his neck and fell on the table.

“This is an intervention,” Kyle said, immediately grabbing all the candy packets and hoarding them. “Your candy privileges have been revoked until further notice.”

“All of you are still fuckin’ children,” Jordan muttered. He flipped a page, found what he was looking for, and passed the instructions to Zach.

He read it. “You—You fuckin’ handed me the instructions just to show me where it says how to glue the pieces together?”

“The way you were doing it is a disgrace to humanity.”

“Your face is a disgrace to humanity.”

“Oh, that’s the route you wanna fuckin’ go?”

“That’s how it’s always been done!” Zach argued.

“By _whom_? Definitely not the people who made the goddamn instructions!”

“By _me_!”

“Your opinion is clearly not valid solely based off the fact that apparently, that is how you have always made a gingerbread house,” Jordan told him.

”Okay, then whoever taught me how to make a gingerbread house,” Zach retorted.

”Who would teach someone to glue gingerbread house walls like _that_? You can’t even leave it alone for five seconds before it’s collapsing!”

Zach groaned. “I may have possibly been doing the gingerbread house process incorrectly,” he muttered.

“Wow, Zach being wrong about something when he clearly has no idea what he’s doing? Shocker,” Dylan said sarcastically.

Zach glared at him.

Kyle decided to take matters into his own hands, by getting up and grabbing a butter knife from the drawer and smearing the frosting evenly on the gingerbread. He glared at Zach while doing it. He did that with another piece and connected them, holding them there until the pieces wouldn’t fall.

“ _That_ is how you make a goddamn gingerbread house, Zach,” he said, grabbing a candy packet and flinging it at him.

“Yeah, yeah. Everyone’s a critic.”

“Maybe people wouldn’t criticize you if you just did it normally like a normal fuckin’ person would,” Jordan told him.

“That’s repetitive and redundant. And are you arguing that I should just follow the status quo, Jordan, if I do not want to be criticized? How harmful. Disgusting rhetoric.”

”You clearly don’t even know what rhetoric _is_ , Zach.”

“Y’know what, Zach?” Dylan laughed. “You’re a fucking menace.”

“I take pride in that.”

“Of fuckin’ course you do,” Jordan mumbled as he shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Huh. You broke Jordan. Well done, Zach,” Kyle said.

“I hate all of you. This one occasion has taken fifteen years off my lifespan,” Jordan deadpanned.

“And there was much rejoicing. Yay.” Dylan said the last word in the same tone as would a child about getting a bad grade on a test.

”I hate all of you,” Jordan repeated.

**Author's Note:**

> the “and there was much rejoicing” comment was a reference to monty python and the holy grail if anyone was interested


End file.
